Kein Trinkwasser
by Tenshisonnet
Summary: Trowa is a DJ and Treize is his boss. After a nearly fatal car accident, will Trowa learn to accept Trieze's love? 3x13 yaoi.
1. Cars and Urequited Love

**Kein Trinkwasser**

Pairing: 13x3/3x13

Completed: October 2001

Author's notes: This fic was named after a song by Orbital. The title literaly means "No Drinking Water". Obviously, I'm not an old Japanese guy so I don't own GW. If you like the fic, join the Trowa x Treize mailing list off of the main page!

The newest DJ at "the Box" was spinning ferociously while the hundreds of ravers danced and paced around on or off their fix. Aside from the variety of glow bracelets, sticks, and beads; the dim dance floor was the only thing emanating light in the main room. Specks of light could be seen from the DJ's table dancing around the wrists and necks of the patrons. The DJ himself adorned no glowing jewelry, though he watched a couple dancers in particular radiate light while they moved to the beat in the vast dim blue of the arena.

It was one blonde's first visit to this particular club as to the advice of his solitary associate. He'd become bored with his local club and decided to take Wufei's advice to give this one a try. The beats raged through his veins in his nearly spastic movements. The DJ's pale green eyes scanned the tables before him then back to the blonde over and over again. A couple times he forced his eyes back onto the tables before his music became disastrous. He actually spurned raves, but he got to spin his music freely and it was well excepted. After the first time he spun the manager saw the reaction of the spectators and asked him back with pay. He didn't even consider it work. After the first week, he was paid excellently. The manager, a composed man named Treize, asked him to be the resident DJ for the club but was refused as the stoic DJ was still in college. Because of the long distance he had to drive to get back to his college, he was dubbed DJ Drive. He didn't speak at all let alone his name when he spun, but he responded to it. Treize leaned back against the spinning box at the head of the club and let the carefully spun music soak into his skin like sunlight. The fiery DJ sweat slightly, as he seemed to be letting loads of anger pour into the music.

Treize paced toward Drive wanting to break his anger apart, but the hymn was so captivating, he crawled back to his original position and continued to soak him in. Drive had red bangs and auburn hair in the back shaved high up. His earrings dangled against each other inaudibly through the euphony. His lean, muscular arms leapt from one table to another making his baggy pants sway with the music. Drive noticed the vibrations up his legs the first time he spun at this set and was magnetically attracted to it. The limp sleeveless shirt flopped against his abs and exposed parts of his back. Treize took in the sight with the lick of his lips.

In another hour, his set was over and the club would close. The thought of leaving was rejected by his bones, so he spun as angry as he had the first couple hours. When the time came to leave, he spun the last scratched melody and lost sight of the seemingly inexhaustible blonde. Listlessly worn out, he trudged toward the door with his carton of vinyl as Treize caught him by the door by the shoulder. "Drive!"

He turned to the taller man, "Hn?"

"Can I help you with those?" he motioned toward the carton.

Drive shook his head and turned again to leave. He felt strange whenever he looked into his eyes.

Treize caught him by the shorter boy by the shoulder again. "Are you sure?" Treize pulled Drive against his body in the humid air. "I won't hurt you, you know," he said softly as his grasp became more of a caress. "Let's walk outside."

They walked out the door and to Drive's car. Drive watched the ground as they walked and sat his precious vinyls in the passenger seat. He refused to look at Treize, hurrying his paced to get into his car.

Treize caught him before he had that chance. The silent parking lot screamed through Drive's ears when Treize touched him as he soon did. Drive was brought into Treize's embrace with reddened cheeks. His back rested against Treize's firm stomach as he leaned down and whispered into his ear with wet lips. He felt his lips graze his ears as he spoke. "You were great tonight. Please reconsider and become my resident DJ. I'll pay you more than you are getting now. I'll give you anything you want. Another car," he clutched him even tighter as he whispered the last part. "More speed. Anything. You're so magnificent when you spin. And when you're not."

Drive's ears were on fire. All the things he desired except that blonde he saw today. He was considering giving in more than ever. Treize. Speed. More time to spin. He wanted only a few things, and here before him, he could have excess of them. He was becoming warm, too warm. Then Treize started placing soft kisses in his ears and down his neck. Drive's breath became heavy and he sunk into Treize's body as his earrings audibly jingled. Treize started to caress Trowa's body, his hands crawling ever so slowly downward. Then Trowa's mind gave a shrill howl. He vaulted out of Treize's embrace like an animal out of a snake's grasp. "You fag," he rebuffed and sat in his car. He still refused to meet his gaze.

Treize smiled at him and leaned into the car. He kissed Drive's forehead and said, "I'll miss you, too. Come back on Thursday."

"I don't work on Thursdays," he replied.

He stroked the back of Drive's head affectionately and uttered, "Lex is on vacation. I'll need you back tomorrow."

Drive started the car with a quiet grunt, swiping Treize's hand away. "Only for two hours."

"Sure," he touched Drive's cheek for a moment and retracted out of the car.

Drive drove out of the desolate parking lot and onto the two-laned highway. He took all the country highways back to his college over an hour away. His ears drank in the silence and drove Baby Fi to the best of her abilities. Her engine purred as sweetly as the day he bought her months ago. He was still paying for her, but she was worth every last penny. And every penny came from Treize.

Treize.

The very name almost made him cry with rage and craze. When it came to Treize, nothing made sense. He heated Drive's thoughts at night. He hungered for him, but needn't go looking for him. Treize was always there to pester him. "I can't be the resident DJ. I have classes. I will not drive this far almost everyday to be with . . . To work a "the Box". It shouldn't be work. But . . ." He thought about leaning against the older man's body moments prior. He knew Treize was thinking about fucking him right then and there. Treize dripped of pheromones. "Treize probably jerks off to recordings of my music," he chuckled to himself.

He pulled into his parking spot at quarter to five. He locked up his precious car and drug himself up the stairs of the quiet dorm and unlocked his door. His empty room reminded him of his empty stomach. The refrigerator was fruitful only for a day old veggie burger and a can of pop. He spent most of his money on a new set of turntables. Top of the line. Wolfing down the food, he reviewed a bit for the next day of classes. When he was done, he massaged his shoulders absent-mindedly. He lay down in bed and felt the shivers kick in. It'd been days since his last fix. He had been trying to quit, but Treize kept on giving it to him whenever he thought he was over it. "Fucking fa. . ." his thought stopped short as he blacked out into sleep.

The next morning, he awoke to the same damn annoying alarm clock with the obnoxious dramatic voice, "Wake up! Rise and shine!"

He pushed the button down and fell into his cloths for that day. The shivers seemed to halt for the time being, so he walked off to class stoically.

Classes went as they always did. Slowly. He enjoyed a couple on Thursdays, but definitely not English. It made no sense they had to study this drivel. 'Love and politics, that's all this crap is. Neither of them I need to hear about. Love doesn't make the world go round, money does,' he thought.

He picked up lunch from the Cafeteria and headed back to the Box. He was about half way through the trip, listening to his baby whine under his feet. She was a navy blue Viper with two white stripes going over the top of her. Drive loved her purr. His two favorite songs were "Blank page" by Smashing Pumpkins, a foreign melancholy band, and the purr of his car. She wasn't just his car, but his accomplice, his friend, and his chariot. He was absent-mindedly driving about seventy miles per hour down Route 6 when nothing happened.

Bang! Crunch! Pop! (Tumble, tumble, tumble) ". . . baby F-fi?" he stammered weakly.

Then the nothingness took his sight. Then his consciousness.

It had been about an hour before another driver drove by the disturbing mess smeared along the side of the dusty country highway. She called the cops and parked in front of the mess on the shoulder. She prayed to herself that this wasn't a rerun of all those driving horror stories she watched in driver's ed. years before. The shattered car lay upside-down in the grass below. She ran down to the small hill to marvel sadistically at all the blood trickling off of the driver's door. The closer to the driver she got, the more and more she wanted to throw up. The driver's hair was the color of blood and his right leg and chest were sticky with coagulated blood. Her hand rested on his shoulder and she shook him slightly, "Oi! Can you hear me? Please answer!"

She heard silence in return.

She shook him again. "Oi! The cops are coming with doctors, you're going to be okay!" she yelled at him. She could smell the powder from the airbag.

Nothing she did roused a noise.

Moments later, she heard the cops pulling around to the shoulder of the abandoned highway. She wiped the blood on her hand off on the car as the first cop rushed her away from the accident. They started asking her common questions after they got her into a cop car fifty feet away. The whole time they asked her anything, she just stared at the driver's unresponsive body. A humble broke into her stream of thoughts, "Huh?"

"Namae wa?"

"Dorothy."

"Where were you going when you happened across this?"

"I was heading over to my cousin's club on Route 76."

"When did you find the car?"

"About ten minutes ago."

"And you called right away?"

"Yes, yes I did."

"Thank you. Please give us your driver's license for some standard information and we'll let you go. Do you think you can drive in your condition?"

She thought for a moment and nodded, handing over the information. The cop took the card and walked to the other side of the car letting her see the boy being drug out of the car and onto a stretcher. "Yokatta!" she thought. "He's gonna be okay!"

Then she noticed his pale complexion. She held her breath. Then the cop came back and handed her her license. She accepted it and headed back to her car. Sighing, she didn't look back at the car, but continued on her journey to her cousin's. When she was about a minute away, she burst out into tears.

When she arrived, Treize was in his office at the back of the building, hunched over a stack of papers. Distracted by unfamiliar sniffling, he looked up to see his cousin standing limply, uncollected in the doorway with tears dripping off of her chin. "Treize!"

"Dorothy?" he straightened up. His rigid frown became a look of wonder. "What's wrong?"

Dorothy ran to him and feel into his grasp as he stood up. Her sobs leaked onto Treize's shirt weakly. She stammered through her story:

"I . . . was driv-ving to see-e you and um. . . There was this boy in a car on the side of route ss-even. He was-n-n't breath-hing when I got there, but um . . . the paramedics got tha-here and he was on the stretcher all pale un' st-huff. Treize! I think, he's de-ad!"

He soothed her wounded whining by holding her and pet her long platinum locks. "Shhh. It's okay. These things happen," he smiled to himself. He was glad she wasn't hurt, physically. "You're okay, right? That's all that matters for now. Shhh."

"B-but what if he's dead?!" she cried. "If I'd've gotten there sooner . . . he might've . . ."

"Even if you did, you've not a paramedic, so it wouldn't have mattered," he reassured her.

"No Treize! We gotta go to the hospital and see if he's okay! Come on! We gotta go! Please come with me Treize! Onegai!" she pleaded like a child.

"Dorothy! That won't solve anything! Think about it. We'll just be two more people in their waiting room. You don't even know this boy! Dorothy, forget it!" he nearly yelled.

"Demo, Treize!" she begged.

"If you're that eager to go, wait until the club's set up! I don't have enough people here to open the club by themselves. Give me two hours then I'll go with you. Okay?"

"Two hours?" she pouted.

"That's the best I can do," he lamented.

"Fine," she squawked. "I'll be in the back room taking a nap."

Treize smiled at her quick recovery and went back to filling out forms for the next month. "Hee."

The bouncers filed through the night's guests like men with katana. The beats of DJ Bounce raged through the air. The ravers weren't as convulsive as they were with Drive's music, but they still danced madly off of their fix.

Treize on the other hand paced the spinning box entrance waiting impatiently for Drive's arrival. He'd never, ever been this late. Drive showed even when he later threw up in the middle of spinning. Something was definitely off. Treize ran into his office and dialed Drive's dorm room number. Seven rings. No answer. Treize thought the possibilities over in his head, 'Okay, he could just be running late, he could just be late. Maybe the traffic was bad. No parking? Who am I kidding? We reserve a spot for him. Maybe he doesn't want to see me. I was more forward than usual with him last night. But he said he'd come!' He continued to rant to himself.

A rapping came at his dim office door. Dorothy stood with matted hair and her coat on. "Treize, can we go now?"

"Sure, sure. I just gotta call a couple more numbers," he answered trailing off.

"Hai," she sat in the extra chair in his office.

He dialed the number of his cel phone to get no answer. Lastly, in a final effort, he paged him. He never wore his beeper unless he was in class. After a few minutes, there was still no answer. He sighed in defeat.

Dorothy pulled him out of the office. Treize told the DJ to spin all night, and that he'd be back in a couple hours.

They headed down the same highway Dorothy took to get there in Treize's red 57' Firebird. His engine was much less quiet than Drive's but he liked things loud. When they reached the crash site, Dorothy pointed to the other side of the highway at the dark car on its hood. Treize cringed at the dead hunk of metal. "Ouch," he said.

"Yeah, that poor boy. He'll be okay. I know he will."

"Genki genki Dorothy-san."

"I know he'll be okay. He can't be dead." She reassured herself.

They walked briskly to the nurse's desk. A slim woman with corkscrew hair looked tiredly up at them. "Yes?"

Dorothy leaned over the desk after looking around the nearly deserted hospital waiting area. She didn't even see any doctors running around. "There was an accident earlier today and I was wondering if the boy who was in it was here."

The nurse smirked sarcastically. "He's in the emergency room right now. Are you a relative?"

She tried to hide her relief. "No, I called the cops when I saw the accident. Is he okay? Will he be okay? Please, you've got to tell me!"

The nurse sat back in her chair. "I can't tell you that information unless you're a relative. Or a friend of his."

"How long do you think the surgery will take? I just wanna know if he's gonna be okay. For heaven's sake, I'm the one that called the cops for him!" she was getting angry.

"Truly, miss, I can't tell you if he'll be okay or not. He's been in surgery for five hours now. Please sit down and I'll see what I can do."

They were compliant but not without frustration. Dorothy leaned against Treize's shoulder and waited for a doctor or someone to pass by.

About half an hour later a doctor with a spectacular amount of blood on her scrubs walked up to the nurse. "Une, I'm taking a vacation."

The nurse squinted at the doctor. "Noin, you look so tired! You should go home. How did the surgeries go? These two are here to find out if the boy's okay. The young lady says she's the one who phoned the accident in."

The doctor walked up to Treize and Dorothy was an embarrassed grin on her fatigued face. She cleared her throat. "I'm sorry about my appearance. It's been a long day."

Dorothy nearly jumped her. "Is he okay?! Will he live?"

Noin jumped back, "Oh, um, we did a number of surgeries on him. If he lives through the night, I'd say, he'll pulled through. The paramedics said he'd been lying there for an hour before anyone got there. He was bleeding heavily and passed out after a while. Thanks to his strong body, he was strong enough to stay alive during that hour. If he can handle that, I'd say he could pull though. That is, if he gets through tonight."

"How was he injured?" Treize asked.

"Part of the steering wheel stabbed him in the stomach and part of the innards of the dashboard went through his leg. We spent a large amount of time getting bits of plastic out of his wounds."

"Will he be okay? I mean, where those things fixed?" Dorothy asked.

"Oh, yes. We had to patch the whole in his stomach; and we put his leg back together, just right. With a lot of work, he'll pull through. If you don't mind, I'd like to go home and sleep," she yawned.

"Oh, yes. Thank you!" Dorothy cried again.

"Thank you, miss," Treize added.

Dorothy returned to crying joyfully and hugging Treize as the doctor left.

"May we go see him?" Treize asked the nurse.

Then nurse wagged her head. "Not until the morning."

Dorothy nearly strangled the woman. "What?! Didn't you hear? He might not survive the night!"

"Yes, but he needs lots of sleep. You folks should go home and get some sleep. You can come back in the morning."

Dorothy was about to argue, then Treize pulled her toward the door. "Come on, Dorothy. I gotta get back to the club."

Treize sat in his desk after the club closed. 'Drive never showed up,' was his only thought. He ceased his morbid thoughts and watched Dorothy sleep in the room across from the office. 'She sure cares a lot about a boy she doesn't even know. Poor boy. I hope he pulls through. Dorothy, selfless Dorothy,' he thought kissing her sleepy forehead.

Treize woke up sitting at his desk with a stiff neck. "Er", he moaned. The clock read 10:00, but he body said it was 5:00. He stretched and walked over to the drooling Dorothy. His footsteps made her wipe the pool of drool from his cheek and rise to face the morning. "Treize, we gotta go back to the hospital."

He sat next to her and nodded. "I know, let's go back to my place and freshen up first. Do you want him to see him with morning hair?"

Dorothy lazily pushed him a little. "Iiko?"

They approached a new nurse and asked to see the boy. She asked a couple questions and showed them to the room. As they were walking closer and closer to the door, Treize felt a tug at one of his heartstrings. "What's wrong?" Dorothy asked. He walked a bit faster than the others and paced into the open door. To his horror, he saw his precious Drive lying there with a swelled stomach and thigh in bulky bandages. "Drive!" he said coarsely and ran to his side. He lay in the white bed with white sheets over him. His face was as stoic as ever. His breath was slow, but apparent. Treize berated himself, 'Of course! He didn't show up to work, he didn't answer the calls. I was so stupid! He was on the highway he takes to get to the Box. Why? Why did it have to be him! Why did it have to be Drive?' His thoughts were almost too much, but he hid his tears for Dorothy.

Dorothy trotted in and reported, "She said we can only stay for an hour . . ." She saw the look on Treize's face. Shear sadness. She cantered up next to him with a melancholy frown. "They told me his name was Trowa Barton, but I didn't want to believe it. At first, I tried to convince myself it was a different Trowa. It wasn't Drive. Poor Trowa. He looks so peaceful though."

"Dorothy, I'm staying here. I'll call you when he wakes up, okay?" Treize said.

Dorothy just left Treize to his silence. He climbed next to Drive on the bed then carefully wiped the hair from his eyes. He never got to see both of Drive's eyes. They were so silent when they were shut. Whenever he spun, they seemed to radiate energy, anger, and harmony. Now, he lay quietly with a swollen belly looking very haggard. 'Has he been running on so little energy every time he came to the club?' he thought. "Trowa," he spoke to the broken body beside him. "I'm sorry this happened to you. I'm sorry if you never want to speak to me again. I'm sorry if I've pushed you in any way. At the very least, you've okay now." The tears couldn't be held back anymore. Treize touched Trowa's face delicately. "I'm so sorry Trowa. I'll wait humbly at your side until you heal completely. Then, if you want me to leave, I will. I'll never harass you again. But, when you wake up, I'll tell you that I love you once more." He leaned down and let his lips soak Trowa's taste into them. Trowa's lips were so warm, so welcoming. "You'd never let me kiss you if you were awake. I can only hope one day you will." He let the last few words roll off his tongue again, "One day."

Treize sat in the corner chair and watched his beloved's profile until he fell into the dreamscape.

Drive awoke in a sweat. His eyes sweat all over his face. He opened his eyes and reached up to touch his eyes. 'These are my tears . . .? I cried?' he thought to himself. 'Why was I crying?'

His body convulsed and he leaned to the side to throw up over the side of the bed. His stomach cried out in agony. His eyes drifted to his stomach as he wiped the puke from his cheek. It was puffed up. His hand reached down and pulled up the robe. His eyes widened. A four-inch line of torn tissue pulled back together again by blue plastic thread. A couple of other small incisions were sewn shut around the first. To him it looked like a root. Then he tried to move his leg, which rewarded him with white agony. It shot up his leg, through his pelvis and to the base of his skull. He fought not to scream and release the agony into the air above. After an eternity the anguish subsided. Then the accident hit him again. 'Why am I not dead?' he reasoned. He remembered the flash of a person standing in the middle of the road. Drive spun the steering wheel to the left sharply to avoid hitting the lunatic in the middle of the road. The only feature he remembered was the blonde hair. It reminded him of the boy at the Box he was watching the night before. He wished whole-heartedly that the same boy would be back the next night for him to watch from the booth again. At that moment, He spotted Treize's sleeping figure in the corner chair under the TV. "Treize?" he sat up to the protest of his body. He felt a trifle sweaty, wanting to leave desperately. Due to his injuries, he sat quietly and watched him sleep hesitantly. 'If he wakes up, should I act like I'm asleep? Should I talk to him?' he thought to himself. This way, he could look at Treize's face without being embarrassed or ashamed. Every time he looked at him, he was afraid of looking like a fool. 'I am a fool,' he thought.

Treize stirred awake and stretched broadly toward the ceiling. Then he opened his eyes. Drive sat there staring back at him with a blank expression. 'I knew it,' Treize thought. 'He doesn't like me.'

Drive continued to stare absently at him as he thought about what action he could possibly make. Unconsciously, he rubbed the back of his neck.

Treize slowly walked toward him. "Does it hurt?" he asked.

He shook his head and cast his eyes down to the comforter. He couldn't look at his open eyes anymore.

Treize sat next to Drive again, near his left leg.

Without anticipating his words, he muttered, "You can call me Trowa." Trowa caught his mouth with his hand. 'Why did I say that?' he thought.

"What?" Treize asked. 'Did he hear me talking to me before?' he thought. "Do you not like it when people call you Drive?"

He looked a bit higher on Treize's anatomy with a pounding heart. Treize's hand lie close to his knee. He half-heartedly wished for the touch, then became disgusted with himself. "It's fine. I just . . ." he paused to look a bit higher, at his shoulder. "I'd like for you to call me Trowa."

Treize gave a Lilliputian smile. "Yes, Trowa."

"Did they say I can leave yet?" he asked.

Treize was taken back. "Leave? Trowa, you're seriously hurt. You'll be here for another week at least. Rest," he pushed Trowa back down by the chest cautiously. Trowa leaned back and grabbed Treize's hand. He felt his cheeks go warm. Treize gasped, but let Trowa touch his arm. After a moment of stillness, Treize pulled away and stared out of the window. "You need your sleep. Do you want me to leave?"

Trowa shook his head again, "Onegai, stay." He looked directly at Treize's smiling profile with cherry cheeks. "I . . ."

Treize turned to him with a cheery smile. "I'll stay then, but shhh. You need sleep more than anything you can request of me now." He returned to his seat in the corner and gazed at Trowa's sleepy complexion. Trowa was even more beautiful than when he was spinning at that moment. He was staring directly into Treize's eyes with flushed cheeks. The scratches and bumps covering his body didn't matter in the least; he was still the most beautiful thing Treize had set his gaze upon. 'How can I show you that if you keep me so far away? One day,' he thought to himself.

Trowa let his eyelids fall and Dream came upon him once more. He dreamt about a blue room. There was a single sand-colored flower in a vase in the opposite corner. The leaves around it had died, but the flower perched happily in the center. Trowa walked timidly toward it and saw vague lettering on a petal. His long fingers pulled the petal off and read the simple text: One day.

The nurturing gaze of the sun was fading in the distance as Trowa pulled his rag-tag body into a hunker. His dry fingers rubbed his eyes gently. The welts and minor lacerations of the past day had subsided for the most part, but his gut still ached of unknown physical pain. It felt like the big bad wolf. Someone had taken his stomach out and put a rock there instead. His body rolled to his right side where an unfamiliar blonde slumped quietly by Treize. The shiver of a memory rolled against the back of his brain. "Aren't you . . .?"

She sat up and nudged Treize out of the article he was reading. "Drive? Are you okay?" she question sympathetically.

He clutched his stomach lightly and muttered, "I'm okay except for this."

"Yokatta! Oh, gomen. I'm Dorothy, Treize's cousin. I'm afraid we haven't formally met. My cousin speaks very highly of you."

Drive didn't know how to take that last statement, but hushed his suspicions. "Oh. Yoroshiku."

"Hn. Hajimemashite. I brought you a sandwich, but the nurse said you can't eat solids for a week, so I got you a shake. Treize said you liked strawberry kiwi. Doozo," she handed it to him.

"Doomo," he began sipping it gingerly. "I swear I know you from somewhere."

"Oh," she became a little less cheery. "I was the one who found you by the side of the highway. I was on my way to visit my cousin here. I'm lucky I found you."

"On the contrary, I'm lucky you found me," he replied. He figured it'd be better to be more talkative with the one who saved his hide. "Doomo arigato gozaimasu," he bowed his head a little.

She blushed and giggled, "It was nothing,"

Treize finally interrupted. "Trowa, I'll have to be heading home in about a bit, but I'll be back tomorrow. Dorothy can stay with you. Is that okay?"

Trowa wagged his head a little. "I understand. You have to take care of the club."

"Good. Do you want anything?" he asked.

He nodded once he thought of his also precious manga. Treize would find his Shounen Ai manga if he looked in the bag hard enough, but that was a chance he was willing to take. He needed to find out if Chichiri would just confess his love to Tasuki or die alone. Trowa couldn't stand the suspense! "Hai. Could you bring me my book bag?"

"Isn't that in you car?" he asked confused.

Trowa hadn't thought about his car until that moment and he nearly started crying. The displeasure showed in his face slightly. He looked up at Treize, who frowned and nodded slightly. "I'm afraid it's totaled."

Trowa stared at his leg with a deep frown. "Get all my stuff out of the car and have her towed to my college."

Treize and Dorothy's heads tilted, "What for?"

"I'm going to fix her," he said assertively.

Part 2


	2. Smoothies and Cats

**Kein Trinkwasser**

Pairing: 13x3/3x13

Completed: October 2001

Author's notes: This fic was named after a song by Orbital. The title literaly means "No Drinking Water". Obviously, I'm not an old Japanese guy so I don't own GW. If you like the fic, join the Trowa x Treize mailing list off of the main page!

Dorothy left a little past nine and soon after came a sleepy haze. "They sure have me sedated to be this tired. Che. Did I just think Che? Man, I should stop hanging around Treize so much," he thought.

Then came a slight knock on the door. Trowa opened his eyes to the direction of the door and gasped. "Why is he here?" he thought trying to contain his blush. He sat up with a sharp intake of breath.

The self-conscious blonde stood there with a sad yellow lily in a blue pot in his hand. He was clad in all blue raver-camo and a blue wife-beater. He looked like he ran straight from the club. "Is he the boy that was in the road?" Trowa asked himself. The boy looked very embarrassed and ashamed the closer to him he got. "Drive? Is that you?" he asked timidly.

"Hai, I saw you at the club a couple days ago," he recalled.

"Hai, I'm Quatre Winner. Yoroshiku," he muttered hardly facing Trowa. "I brought you this." He placed the pot on the tray near the hospital bed. Trowa saw that the capillaries in his eyes were big. "Was he crying?" he wondered. Not thinking, Trowa leaned toward Quatre and put a hand on his cheek. "What's wrong? Were you crying?"

"I . . . I'm so sorry!" he exclaimed and began to cry again. Quatre thrust his face into his hands. Trowa instinctively reached for him and brought him into his embrace. Quatre sat next to Trowa's uninjured side with his head in Trowa's neck. For some foreign reason, Trowa felt responsible for his sadness, like it was his duty to cheer him up. "Shhh," Trowa coaxed and pet his hair lightly. "Tell me what's wrong."

Quatre climbed out of Trowa's neck and faced him with the sternest face he could muster. "I was the one on Route 7. I was the one who did this to you. You can hate me. You should hate me! If I had gone by myself, this wouldn't have happened," he scorned himself.

Trowa took this fear into him. "I can't hate him! It wasn't his fault whatever it was. He was the one I was going to ask out. He's so exquisite even if he's crying," he thought. Instead of doing what he wanted him to do, he followed his heart. "Quatre. I can't hate you. I don't even know you. If you somehow made this happen, I know it's not all your fault."

"But it is!" he retorted. His shame distorted his seraphic face. "I was at the coffee shop on 56th and this guy asked if he could drive me to the Box. He said he'd seen me there before. He looked sort of like you, but he had a goatee. I got into his car and we headed toward the club. We were on 7 when he started asking me . . . intrusive questions."

"Like what?" he asked.

"He was asking me stuff like if I was an uke or a seme. He started licking his lips and tried to touch me. When I told him I wanted out, he got upset and wouldn't let me out. He stopped at the side of the road and locked the doors," he began to sniffle again. "He started grabbing and kissing me. I kicked him and unlocked the door. I got out pretty much unscathed. I headed back on the side of the highway. That's where you saw me. This is all my fault! I shouldn't have trusted that guy anyway. Please hate me!" he pleaded.

Trowa wiped away his tears and held him close again. "Come on, Quatre. You didn't know that fucker was a creep. You're lucky you got out of that. Please, don't blame yourself."

"I don't know if I can help it," he faced Trowa again.

"I'll help you," he caressed his cheek again. Then Trowa leaned forward and kissed Quatre gently on the forehead.

Shocked, Quatre stared at Trowa in bewilderment. With reddened cheeks, he smiled a bit. "That would be nice. Could you ever forgive me?"

Trowa smiled and tenderly kissed Quatre on the lips. Quatre kissed his back gently. The kiss wasn't lusty or passionate, but exhibited forgiveness. They broke off and smiled thoughtfully at each other. "You'll come and visit me, right?" Trowa asked.

"Everyday."

Treize returned the next morning to a rested, aware Trowa reading a music magazine. Treize leaned against the doorframe gazing at Trowa's fresher, less puffy form. He radiated with balance. His minor wounds had healed completely and his good leg dangled off of the side of the bed. "Kawaii," Treize called to Trowa.

Trowa continued to stare into his magazine. "Fag," he replied.

Treize smiled and sat his backpack at the end of the bed. "Good morning to you, too. I also took the liberty of calling your professors to get your assignments. And here's your strawberry kiwi shake," he handed it to him. He immediately ripped it from Treize's claws like it was a treasure and started to drink like a child. Treize perched next to him on the bed and pet him on the head. "You care thank me later."

Trowa swatted his hand away, "Don't touch the hair."

"Sheesh. You're definitely not a morning person. The nurses told me a guy stopped by late last night. Who was it?" he asked nonchalantly.

Trowa caught the shake in his throat before it sprayed out of his nose. "(Cough) the guy who got me into the accident."

"What?!" Treize yelled. "And you didn't call me or contact your lawyer? Trowa, you've had too many sedatives. You're not making any sense."

Trowa returned to fixating on the shake and reading. "He was nice."

"Nice?" Treize nearly cried.

"It wasn't his fault. He's stopping by later. Don't do anything to him."

He sighed, raking through his hair. In that instant, Trowa's eyes floated toward the scent of vanilla and roses drifting into his senses. "Treize always smells so nice. I bet he takes baths in that stuff," Trowa then thought about Treize in the bath. Then lathering up. Then ooh . . . His thoughts became mush.

"Trowa?" he called out.

"Hn?" he came back to reality with a better idea of what to masturbate about.

"Why do you have Shounen Ai manga in your bag?" he asked.

"Were you going through my bag?" he irked.

"No, the bag's falling open," he informed him.

Trowa spotted the blue manga with the incriminating cover. Quickly, he collected his things and put it on the other side of the bed. He felt it would ridiculous to try and hide it now. Treize had seen him staring at Quatre form the booth. He sighed. "I enjoy reading it."

Treize smirked. "Of course! He's like me. No wonder he leaned into me and let me kiss him the night before this happened. Could he possibly. ." he examined his thoughts. "I see."

"Aren't you going to ask me anything?" he hid behind his magazine further.

"Sure, Do you want another smoothie for lunch?"

In another week, Trowa limped with crutches out of the hospital doors with Quatre beside him every step and hop of the way. It was the first time Trowa smelled foliage or heard the unmuted song of birds in over a week. He let the new air crawl through every cell of his body. Quatre helped him into his little green Toyoda after throwing his bag and plant into the back seat. They drove up to the club at a slower speed than Quatre was use to. He didn't want to traumatize Trowa of cars forever. 

The night sky crawled slowly past Trowa's closed eyes. He was honestly happy to be out of the hospital and with his new companion. Quatre fussed over him like an older sister while he was in the hospital. He hardly let him go to the bathroom by himself. He even let Quatre see him smile genuinely at him for being so cute. Even though he didn't like Quatre as much as Treize, he was a nice body to look at. He confided in Quatre his affection for Treize after he let himself realize it.

After Treize left the day he brought his bag, Trowa realized he wanted Treize as badly as Treize wanted him. Treize didn't jump him and harass him as soon as he found out about him. He left it alone. Trowa knew Treize was waiting for him behind his façade. They didn't speak of that the rest of the week he was at the hospital. They chatted about the club, Trowa's studying, and unimportant things. Treize felt Trowa yank at his heartstrings every time he left. Through little insignificant actions, he saw the pain Treize felt. Every time Quatre fussed over Trowa while he was there, Treize crossed his arms and looked the other way or looked straight through them.

Trowa decided it was time to repay Treize for his patience and kindness. He asked Quatre to drive him to the Box so he could spin for Treize. Treize confided in Trowa that his missed his spinning and that the club hadn't been the same since the accident. People at the club found out that Drive was in an accident; the mood of the place had changed. Everyone knew something was missing from the air. Treize felt that the air had thinned without Trowa there by him.

"Arigato, Quatre," Drive said contently.

"For what?" Quatre cocked his head a little.

"I'm thanking you for doing this for me. I know you don't like Treize."

"Was I that obvious?" he giggled sheepishly.

"Not really," Drive mused. He knew if they weren't in a car, Quatre would have hugged his arm and put his face into Drive's neck. Instead, he grabbed Drive's hand and put it back on the stick shift.

"It's nothing. You know I'll always be there for you, right?" His deeper tone matched the hum of the engine's whine.

"Hai," Drive said with a smile.

Quatre and Drive both knew they were lovers in past and future lives. This lifetime, Quatre knew Drive would be with another, but he didn't mind sharing his love with another, this time. They happened across it the second time they met. Drive's uninjured leg hung over the side as it had many times during the day and Quatre lay back against Drive's chest as they read one of Quatre's Shounen Ai manga. Drive hadn't read that one in particular, but it included is favorite duet. Chichiri and Tasuki had found each other in modern Japan, Chichiri was a teacher and Tasuki was an unruly student. In one scene Chichiri took his shirt off, exposing his scarred back. Quatre piped up; "I always liked Chichiri more because he has scars like yours." Quatre did a double take along with Drive.

"How did you know I had scars on my back?" Drive asked ghostly.

"I . . . I don't know. I just knew," he replied.

Little things like that kept on happening. It seemed like everyday they found they knew something new about each they didn't know they knew. These things only made them even more attached to each other. They loved each other more than brothers, more than lovers, more than a mother to a son. This eternal love is what let Quatre trust Drive with Treize this lifetime. Deep down he knew Drive would be his again one day.

One day.

They arrived at the Box a little after eleven o'clock that night. The bodyguards were letting patrons in as cautiously as usual when they saw Drive enter through the back way in crutches and smiled at each other. Quatre followed him through the back doors with his crate of vinyl. Drive spotted the larger bodyguard leading Treize into his office with a "question" so he'd miss his entrance. Drive wove through the crowd to the booth generally unnoticed where Lex waited with a wide grin. "How are you kid?" he screamed over his beats.

Drive gave a petite smile and showed Quatre where to set his stuff.

"We missed you! I'll be done in a few minutes!" he stated.

Objecting to Drive's need to set up himself, Quatre set up his gear from memory and put the record he got him while he was in the hospital on the first base. Quatre smiled like a child who'd done a new trick right for the first time.

As Lex finished, the lights went dead and Treize looked through his window into the main room. "What's going on out there?"

The guard waved it off, "Oh, that's just Lex bein' flashy again. Don' warry 'bout it."

"No," Treize said. "I warned him about pulling that shit. I could get called in by the fire marshal for that." He stomped out of the room and into the black haze. It was silent except for people speaking about the confusion.

Quatre pulled Drive's crutches from under him, letting him stand alone in front of his set before Quatre left the booth. Drive missed them and the melodies they helped him make. He stood with his eyes closed and his hands on the controls breathing in the humid juggernaut of the crowd. After a couple moments of silence, the lights went up on his set alone along with the tinkering of his earrings and belt chains. In a black hoodie, in his favorite place, before his favorite people, he spun the first record around in one succession. Everything went silent aching to hear the next move.

Treize walked furiously toward the booth to behold Lex standing at the swaying door of the side entrance. "What the hell?"

"Nice to see you too, Boss," he smirked.

"Duo, if you're not spinning, then who is?" he demanded curiously. Then his eyes flipped toward the light source. A ghostly green figure stood before a set of familiar turntables. Squinting, he thought he spotted Quatre in the crowd. Dismissing it, he walked through the rotating doors to be halted by a combustion of light behind the figure.

Every corner of the room lit up like Christmas in New York. "Che!" he shielded his eyes. The crowd hopped into dance the next staggering moment the DJ pounced into measure. The figure leapt into what seemed like the middle of one of Drive's songs. Potent bass vibrated in Treize's chest as he found the strength to come closer to the figure covered in a midnight hoodie. The hood disguised the lengthy man bouncing feverishly at the tables. At first he stood dumbfounded at the mad sounds pounding the forefront of his brain. Treize fell into his curiosity. As he brought the black hood back, familiar bangs flopped from the garment. Treize gazed upon the face he was in a hurry to see everyday every since he'd met him.

Drive acted as if he hadn't noticed him and spun to the screaming of the audience. He smiled gently indirectly at Treize and set the beat for the next minute. Treize absorbed the sight into his mind and felt his heart vault at Drive. He mouthed his real name in time for Drive to set the earphones down and look directly at Treize's eyes confidently. Drive's unwavering 

gaze pulled another thorn from Treize's heart. "Trowa, you didn't have to do this." Treize's eyes were puffy with threatening tears.

Trowa nodded and looked to the floor past Treize. "I wanted to do it." His attention returned to his set. "Will you see me in an hour? I can't spin for more than that."

Treize wanted to shower Trowa with kisses right there and tell him how much he loved him, but he knew it was neither the time nor the place. He patted Trowa on the back and went out the entrance of the booth. There, Lex smacked him on the shoulder. "Grouch."

"Gomen, Duo," he looked at him with a bit of shame.

"Don't worry about it. Oh, and by the way, happy birthday."

Treize tilted his head, "Duo, it's not my birthday."

Duo shrugged, "I know, but this would be the cutest birthday present ever!"

Treize sighed as he was whisked away by a bunch of fan girls swimming around him like piranha. "Wufei sure has his hands full with him." He thought. He leaned against the wall near his office and watched the elegance he knew behind the rotating records. His spinning was like wind against his skin when he drove unnecessarily fast. It was so natural for him to be rustled by it. The vibrations went through his hair and clothing and skin. They saturated every fiber of his soul. The feathers of his heart puffed out like a bird in winter whenever he felt him near.

His feather sunk back around his body. "Treize."

He turned to the short blonde before him, "Hai, Quatre?"

"In the hospital, Trowa got rid of his addiction." Sadness swirled in his eyes as he spoke. "He and I'd like it if you didn't offer him anymore speed."

Treize smiled. "I'll never hurt him like that again. I promise."

Quatre promptly left with a nod, "Yokatta."

Drive shed his hoodie long ago and spun his last beat. His leg went limp for a moment in exhaustion, but he rapidly caught himself with the table. Panting, he pulled himself back up and started to pack his stuff up. Quatre prowled behind him and hugged his back. Drive stood up in acknowledgement. "Quatre."

"I don't want to give you up! Will I ever see you again? Are you still going to spin here?" Quatre asked clutched tighter.

Drive spun around holding Quatre to him. "What are you saying? Of course I'm still gonna spin here you silly little boy. And what have we said before? We'll be together always. I'll see you every time you come here and listen. You know where I go to school; you can visit me. I'd never want to stop seeing you Quatre, ever. What gave you such an idea?" he pulled the other boy's face to look at him.

Quatre pouted. "I just thought . . . Don't call me little!" Quatre released him to punch him a couple times in the arms.

Drive defended playfully and asked Quatre to help him put his stuff in Treize's office. Once they got there, they saw Treize hunched again over a pile of bleached white paper. His expression suggested he'd been doing it for hours.

Drive imitated a cough.

Treize looked up, "Yes?"

"Could I put this in here for now?" he asked.

"Hai," he continued to do his work. He was really stalling until Quatre left.

After setting the crates down, Quatre kissed Drive's chin and gave a good night smile. Drive smiled back and watched Treize work for a couple minutes from near the door. Treize was more handsome than ever to Trowa's hungry eyes. Trowa wanted to ravish him so badly, but he'd have to tell him first. He opened his mouth forming a "T" but held his breath. Then he made an "I", then a "W". Trowa then reverted back to thinking he was a fool for a moment before starting up again.

Treize noticed his frustration and looked up to his face, which made him stop. "Is there something you need, Trowa?"

Trowa loved to hear him say his real name. His heart melted a bit. "Let's go get a shake."

Treize sauntered next to his shorted counterpart patiently glancing at him drink his strawberry watermelon shake. He looked delightfully sincere. A small smile crept across his lips. "So why'd you get a different flavor this time?" he asked to fill the air with noise.

The early morning glow of the land filled Trowa's senses, when he wasn't drinking his sweet elixir. "I wanted to try something a bit different."

Treize grunted in recognition as they headed toward his house's back door. "So this is it," he pushed the key into the lock. 

"Thanks for letting me stay with you for a couple days. You know, since I'm still injured. I don't know if I could do all this by myself." Trowa knew he could take care of himself, but he wanted so badly to be close to Treize he came up with an excuse that sounded dumb even to his ears to get here.

He hoped Trowa used "I'm injured" as an excuse to get into his house. More than that, he hoped he wasn't just pulling at his heartstrings for no reason. "Don't think anything of it, Trowa. As long as you need help, I'm here." He unlocked the door and picked up Trowa's bag.

They wondered up to the guestroom in the gigantic white house on the hill. "Why does Treize need such a big house? He's the only one who lives here right?" Trowa thought as he dumped his crutches on the bed. Treize placed his plant on the table by the bed and his bag on the bed. "If you need anything I'm down the hall. Don't hesitate to call me." He opened the door and hesitated to leave, remembering something. "If you see anyone else, don't hesitate to rub their belly." And he left an extremely confused Trowa to stir in his own juices.

"What?" was his only thought. Sighing, he limped into the double-sized bathroom to shower the sweat off of him.

He returned to the primarily white room with dripping bangs and a blue towel around his waist. The down comforter sank in as he sat on it. His back hit the satin cover, which made a tingle of pleasure run up his spin. Then something furry ran other his hand. "Ah," he eeped.

A white cat hid under one of the obese pillows at the head of the bed. Neglecting to hide it's tail too, the cat stayed still, hoping not to get caught. Trowa giggled to himself and pretended not to notice as he changed into a pair of boxers to sleep in. The cat didn't move, and he had a lot of sugar in his system from the shake so he pounced on top of the pillow and proceeded to wrestle wit the frightened feline. It put up a good fight and the two reconciled with a barage of purrs and petting. Once he had the white cat on his chest purring he notice a pair of eyes behind pot, then behind the door, then from under the vanity. From every crevice of the room came a cat of a varying breed and size. Kittens and full-grown cats all jumped onto the bed and cuddled against Trowa. Tickled by all the affection, he laughed violently, unable to get away in fear of injuring a cat. His throat became a little hoarse and he held the one white cat close as he continued to stew in his fit of laughter.

With a crash, Treize threw open the door and urgently ask, "Trowa! Are you okay?" Then he saw Trowa in the pool of fur donning barely anything holding mischievous Sugizo in his arms. He never thought he could be jealous of a cat. "I see you met the others," he smiled.

Trowa giggled with a genuine smile, "Heh, yes. They're very affectionate,"

"Sugizo, let him sleep," he ordered the ringleader. The cat jumped onto the biggest pillow and the other cats jumped off of the bed. "Good boys."

Trowa pulled the covers over him and pet the cat one more time before looking back at Treize. "Arigato."

"I was worried you hurt yourself. Don't scare me like that," he insisted. "You should rest."

"I've slept so much these past two weeks more than I have in years. I'm not sure I'll be able to," he played with the comforter nervously.

"Well, do you best. You still have some healing to do," he closed the door. "Good night."

"Good night, Treize," he muttered to the door. Trowa turned back to the cat, "Is he always so sensitive?"

Sugizo shrugged coyly and climbed into Trowa's arms. He purred loudly as Trowa held him and stroked his fur. "Wait, all Treize's cats are male?"

An hour later Trowa still wasn't asleep. He'd slept so much that he was well beyond his limit. He moved himself from the profoundly happy cat and slinked out the door. He found himself at Treize's door. A light was shining from under the door. Trowa let his heartbeat slow down before he knocked. There was a rustling of covers and an invitation in.

Treize sat with glasses on his nose and a book in his hand. From Trowa's angle, this was all he was wearing. His perfectly tan chest sat exposed in the faint lamplight a foot away. His eyes were clear with understanding of something. "Yes, Trowa?" 

His voice was husky and low, much more sensuous than Trowa was used to hearing. His chest tightened and he closed the door behind him. "You're not supposed to read in the dark you know," he replied.

Treize gave a warm smile, "Would you like me to read you a bit of it since you can't sleep?"

Trowa tediously slowly paced toward the bed and Treize patted near him on the red satin comforter. Trowa shed his self-consciousness at the edge of the bed and sat by Treize. Treize eyed the youth next to him, shifting against him. "Kirei da."

"Fag," Trowa uttered unconsciously. He looked away from Treize embarrassed at his bad habit and turned back to him again to apologize. "Gomen, I didn't mean to."

Treize shook his head; "It's okay." He turned his attention to the book; "This story is about a Chinese man who has to act as a woman to kill a Japanese soldier while the Japanese occupied China . . ."

Trowa wrestled with his conscience and fidgeted with the comforter. "No, it's not okay. I have no right to say that to you."

Treize was confused by Trowa's actions that night. "Trowa," he put the book down and held Trowa's face up to him. "Trowa, it's okay. I've been called worse. I know you're no trying to hurt my feelings when you say it. It's your defense mechanism."

"That doesn't make it right," he paused as he felt Treize's eyes on his skin. "I said it because I wanted to hurt you."

"What?"

Trowa moved a bit away from Treize so he could face him. "I thought that if I told you enough times, you'd start to hate me."

"Why would you want me to hate you?" he puzzled.

"So you'd stop liking me."

Treize's heart sank and he took his glasses off. "I see." He thought: "So he doesn't like me, after all. I annoyed him . . ."

"I thought that if you started to hate me . . ." his heart was beating like the cylinders of his Baby Fi. He looked directly at Treize's hurt eyes. "If you hated me, then I could stop loving you."

Treize caught his gaze in disbelief. "Trowa, you . . . love me?"

Trowa's cheeks burned and he gathered his legs in his arms. "Hai. I was so mean to you when you helped me out so many times. When I needed more speed, after the accident, even when I was acting like a dumb fuck. I'm such a shit head for not saying this in the beginning. I'm sorry Treize," he got up to leave when Treize caught him and pulled him into his embrace roughly. "Trowa, you . . . you baka," his heartstrings pulled in every direction. "I've waited for you to tell me this for so long. Don't ever call your self such things! I'm never, ever gonna hurt you again. Forget Speed, Trowa. I'll never get it for you even if you beg me. Don't you know I love you too much to hurt you?" 

Treize raised Trowa's pained face to his in an aggressive kiss. Trowa kissed back just as hungrily. They lost track of where one's pain ended and the others began. They separated, panting for more. 

"Treize, I've been so stubborn," Trowa reasoned desperately.

Treize turned the lamp off and took Trowa into his arms again. He lay Trowa down beside him in the middle of the sheets. Trowa was all wound up. He needed to calm down before he went into a fit. He moved to rest his chest on Treize's chest and stared into his eyes. Trowa felt everything had been express except for his love. His thoughts chilled into thoughts of love. Treize's crystalline blue eyes cooled his anger into a purr. Treize laughed at his exhibit of pleasure. "Trowa-neko."

Trowa crawled over Treize like a cat and continued to purr, rubbing into him like Sugizo had done before. Treize laughed and pet his oblong bangs. Like a cat, Trowa stretched his back lazily brushing the length of his body against the length of Treize's. Looking into each other's eyes, the game ended with one delicious kiss after another. Trowa lie leisurely on top of Treize caressing every appropriate inch of his body. When he got to the naughty bits, he realized Treize slept naked and jumped off of him.

"Gomen!" he exclaimed. "I didn't realize."

Treize pulled Trowa back onto him like he would pull any cat to him. "Trowa, I'm fine with it. Unless you think it's unfair," he purred and tugged at Trowa's boxers with the hand not holding him close.

Trowa eeped then started another kissing fit. He kissed timidly, then found his way inside Treize's mouth to fence with his love. Midway through the kissing, he slowed down and the passion became evident. Treize felt up and down Trowa's back careful not to rudely push his erection into him. Trowa parted and disrobed. He straddled Treize's nude form with his equally naked body. Treize gazed up at him with bedroom eyes. "Trowa, the last thing I want to do it push you, but would you like to make love?" his husky voice returned.

Trowa answered by kissing down Treize's neck to his peach nipples, biting tediously at them. Small bites, leaving one nipple only to go to another, both equally licked and teased. Treize groaned in rapture, "Trowa, Ai shiteru."

He sopped and moved back to his mouth where he hovered millimeters from his lips. "Say that again."

"Ai shiteru," he replied in his husky tone.

"No, say my name," Trowa smiled.

"Trowa. Ai shiteru, Trowa," Treize rolled onto Trowa and gave his neck little bites down to his nipples. Circling the soft skin there with his tongue, he let his hand graze Trowa's thigh. Trowa thrusted up upward into Treize's erection. Treize responded by teasing his nipples with his teeth hearing Trowa gasp in reverie. Treize fed off of that noise like a starving man. His teasing became biting as he began to thrust back. Trowa couldn't take it anymore; this was too much. Not only was he with his love, but he hadn't pleasured himself in over a week. His aching erection had become painful. "Ah, Treize," he licked his lips and pulled his face up to kiss him lusciously. Treize sensed the urgency in the kiss and moved to stroked Trowa's ache. Trowa felt Treize's taut muscles on top of him. The rippled flesh brought life to dormant parts of his flesh. His cheeks and ears became fiery under Treize's masterful touch. The pumping of Treize's hand made Trowa pull Treize to him. Treize stroked Trowa's flesh how he loved to pleasure himself, slow but firm. The maddening pleasure made Trowa whimper Treize's name. "Treize, I can't . . ."

Treize stopped and pulled Trowa closer, "What is it koi? I'll stop . . ."

"No," Trowa cried and ground Treize's into him. His firm hands fondled Treize's buttocks and kneaded his back urgently. Treize nearly forgot his voice in the display. Trowa's long fingers on him, his dreams seemed so real. He was even better at the little things than Treize imagined. Treize kissed his needy lips and kissed slowly down his neck to his chest, his chest to his stomach, and finally to the aching gravity of his affection. Treize flicked his tongue underneath the head of Trowa's manhood, making sure not to spill the nectar down any further. Treize's breath on him drove him to gripping the covers in anticipation. Finally, Treize took Trowa into himself fully wanting to overwhelm him without drive him over. Trowa gasped and tightened his stomach muscles under Treize's wandering hands. His small groans only excited Treize further making his own erection throb. Long fingers found their way into Treize's hair pushing him hesitantly. Sensing the need, Treize put everything to work at once, coddling Trowa's testicles in one hand while holding tightly onto Trowa's other hand. Soon after, all of Trowa tightened under Treize and released into the back of Treize's throat. Treize was surprised by how soon it came but swallowed it quickly. Trowa's pants became lighter and Treize pulled Trowa near him, kissing his face. Trowa let the beginnings of a purr escape from him throat to hear Treize laugh richly at his antic. "Was that good, Trowa?"

Trowa purred again with a smile and circled Treize's nipple with one of his long fingers. As he took in the first deep breath, he noticed Treize's erratic breathing and elongated penis. Trowa immediately crawled back on top of Treize, "What do you need me to do?" He began rubbing himself against Treize's lithe form feeling himself get excited all over again. He hadn't been this stimulated in his life. Nothing could keep him from pleasing Treize.

Treize groaned a bit louder than Trowa. "Trowa," he positioned himself near Trowa's entrance and rubbed beckoningly at it. His cheeks burned at the idea of taking his love. Trowa leaned onto it, to let Treize get a feel for his tightening flesh. Treize groan loudly then let his breath run heavy. Trowa looked around the room in search of something; to which, Treize panted, "It's in the drawer." He threw his head to the left. Trowa scrambled to the drawer and pulled out the green tube. Trowa mounted Treize's knees and put the tube to the side. Treize looked at him questioningly. In reply Trowa drug his hand from Treize's lips to the base of his shaft. Treize licked his lips to see Trowa bend over to take him in. At the last moment, Trowa breathed on him hotly. Perplexed with passion, Treize groaned again. Then Trowa sat back up to get the tube. "You tease," Treize laughed. Trowa answered with a smile and a moist palm to his shaft. Treize licked his lips again as Trowa began to pump at him, slowly but firmly. Trowa straddled Treize to kiss him, letting they're penises grazing each other while he pumped. Panting, Treize rolled Trowa onto his back and lie between his legs. "Bad kitty."

Trowa purred once more as Treize slid his finger into his tight opening. Purrs melted into pants as the second then third finger stoked his insides. Moans escaped him like wings from a birdcage. He pulled his legs closer to him to give him the access to his vessel. Treize looked up at him for permission. Trowa smiled, "Of course I'm ready, koi."

At once, Treize pushed a bit of himself into Trowa. Trowa gasped at the urgency. He pushed in gradually so Trowa could feel his whole length inside of him. His sheer size wasn't evident until that moment. Trowa felt as if he were completely filled with Treize. No part of him couldn't feel his presence until he pulled almost completely out. Treize looked at Trowa with overwhelming affection. Trowa pulled Treize's face to him to kiss him, making Treize return fully into him. They both awkwardly kissed feverishly until Treize began to pump faster. They groaned each other's names feeling each other's undying presence. Treize went faster and faster until he knew he would come soon, "Trowa, I'm gonna . . ."

Trowa spat his seed like a fountain onto Treize's chest, feeling Treize then spasm as he pushed into him one last time. Treize fell limply onto Trowa. They let their breathing moderate. Trowa didn't feel empty even after Treize pulled out of him. They cuddled until the mess congealed between them. Their eyes and minds focused only on each other. "Treize, I . . ." Trowa was hushed.

"I know koi. I know. That was amazing. Thank you for sharing you're heart with me," Treize pulled himself up near Trowa's face.

Trowa laughed, "No, koi, I was going to say we should wash off."

The next morning Treize woke up alone. His heart sank loudly in his ears as he felt around for a warm body or a note of good riddance. Instead, he found nothing. He pulled on a robe and walked down the stairs to check the answering machine when he smelled something. As he walked closer to the kitchen he began to smell different fruits and batters. Then he saw cats all over the counters except one. There stood a familiar brunet with a skillet in hand and a fluffy white cat licking its lips at him. He flipped over the crepe and turned the blender on. Treize leaned into the kitchen to see strawberries and watermelon bits in it. He leaned on the doorframe smiling at the display. "Koi stayed. My koi. Trowa, from now on, everything I do, I do for you," he told himself. 

"You can sit down, breakfast will be done soon."

"Aren't you the industrious one?" he laughed as he walked to the table.

"I had a little help," he looked at Sugizo. He replied in a simple "nyo".

Treize watched how the cats seemed to be drawn to Trowa. He recalled his feline charisma the night before. All the cats faced him whether they were sitting or fighting to stay on the counters. Trowa put the meal on plates and turned to Treize, "Could you get my shake while I feed the cats?"

Treize complied immediately. Trowa pet Sugizo and put the food dishes out, making sure all the cats had a place around the bowls. Treize poured his shake into a green glass thinking about the countless times he overlooked Trowa's selflessness toward him. All the times at the club and alone with him he took care of everyone else before himself. Except last night. He let him take care of him first. Treize smiled at the thought.

Trowa perched at the table where Treize had sat the glass and waited for Treize to sit. "You didn't have to do this, Trowa," Treize said sheepishly.

"I'm staying at your place. It's only fair."

Treize put the first crepe together and tasted. "Oishii, Trowa. Arigatou."

"It's nothing, koi," he smiled at Treize.

"Fag."


End file.
